


I’ll use you as a focal point

by annella



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28502247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annella/pseuds/annella
Summary: Tseng goes out to celebrate his promotion to executive Turk and ends up taking a handsome blond stranger home with him. The next day he is introduced to Rufus Shinra, and Tseng realises why the man he took home the previous night looked vaguely familiar.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 15
Kudos: 102





	I’ll use you as a focal point

Tseng had only been an executive Turk for nine hours when he fucked up.

Somehow, it was Reno’s fault. It had to be. He’d insisted that Tseng go out for drinks with him and Rude to celebrate Tseng’s promotion, and in a rare fit of conviviality, Tseng had agreed. His colleagues were not generally people he’d choose to spend time with when not working, but he couldn’t deny they were fun on a night out. Besides, he’d worked hard to get where he was, and he felt like he deserved to celebrate a little.

By the time Tseng lost Reno and Rude—after the third bar, he figured—he was well and truly drunk. He wasn’t sure where his companions had gone, and couldn’t be bothered making the effort to pull out his PHS and send a message. Besides, there was another bar just down the road, and the bright lights outside drew Tseng to it like a moth. Perhaps Reno and Rude would be here, and if not, Tseng could get himself another drink and enjoy himself alone.

It was too warm in the bar, but it was comfortable, with low wood-beamed ceilings, a trio of musicians in the corner playing jazz, and lighting dim enough that Tseng couldn’t see the inevitable stains on the floor as he made his slightly unsteady way towards the small bar in the corner. It seemed like this place was more of a jazz club, with booths and comfortable couches tucked away against the walls and a small dance floor, populated by a few couples swaying slowly together.

It was much more his kind of scene than the loud, raucous places he’d been to earlier in the evening. Tseng leaned up against the bar and ordered himself a whiskey, neat, and smiled at the depth of flavour when he took a sip. He would have to remember this place and come back when he was sober.

There were several good-looking men around as well, and Tseng idly watched them as he sipped his drink. He hadn’t taken someone home with him for a long time, not since he became a full-fledged Turk, and he felt faint stirrings of arousal in his groin at the prospect of it.

Suddenly he was glad he’d lost Reno and Rude along the way. 

Across the room, sprawled on a low, comfortable looking couch, was a young man who looked about Tseng’s age. He had long legs and wide shoulders, and his sleek blond hair was swept off his forehead in a way which made Tseng’s fingers itch to touch it. He was alone, and Tseng was summoning up the courage to approach him when the man’s eyes met his.

A smile slowly grew on the man’s face as he stared at Tseng, his head tilted slightly to the side as if assessing him. Tseng held his gaze, taking another sip of his drink, and leaned back slightly, cocking his hips, letting his legs part, and casually opening another button on his shirt. He was glad he’d eschewed his usual suit and tie and instead opted for a black shirt and a pair of jeans which clung to every part of his lower body. He reached a hand into his hair and tousled it slightly, loosening the tie, and the man leaned forward a little, his smile widening. 

It was all part of Turk training—using your body as a tool in your arsenal. A good seduction could be just as effective as an interrogation, if not more so, and Tseng felt no qualms about using his training to pick up a man to fuck. He let his free hand rest on his thigh, high enough up that he was almost touching his cock through his jeans, and the man's eyes flickered down and then up again, dark and filled with amusement. 

Tseng maintained eye contact, letting a smirk form on his face as the man watched him. He was wearing a dark grey shirt, unbuttoned just enough to show his clavicle, and the sleeves were rolled up, exposing muscular forearms. His white slacks were tight over his thighs, and Tseng wanted to crawl onto his lap.

The man raised an eyebrow at him, raised his drink and took a sip, and jerked his head to the side with a smile, indicating the empty seat next to him. Tseng raised both eyebrows inquisitively, and the man nodded, a feral grin on his face as he shifted in his seat, parting his legs invitingly. His hand was resting high on his thigh, mirroring Tseng, and Tseng couldn’t help but let his gaze fall to the man’s groin.

His eyes widened when he realised the man was rubbing the edge of a thumb against the now obvious line of his cock as he stared at Tseng, and Tseng tossed the rest of his drink down his throat and placed his glass back on the bar before standing up straight and making his way towards the man. If that wasn't an invitation, he didn't know _what_ was. 

“Aren’t you gorgeous?” the man said as Tseng approached, his voice a low purr. “Come join me?” 

Tseng didn’t need any convincing; he sat down next to the man, pressing their thighs together, and twisted around to cup his face. “Want to come back to my place?” he asked, letting the words come out rough and breathy, and the man nodded. Tseng’s heart was pounding with excitement and he felt overly warm, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft moan when the stranger tilted his head, grabbed Tseng around the back of his head, and dragged him in for a kiss.

Gods, it felt good. Tseng didn’t give a damn who this man was, didn’t care that he’d never see him again after tonight; all he wanted was to _fuck_. The man seemed to be in agreement; the kiss was messy, wet, greedy, and he slid his tongue into Tseng’s mouth as he moaned and clenched his fist in Tseng’s hair. He smelled _divine,_ spicy and woodsy, and Tseng breathed him in like he was oxygen.

“Shall we get out of here?” the man asked breathlessly when they parted for a moment, and Tseng nodded, smiling. They kissed again, searing heat between them, Tseng gasping into the man’s mouth when his other hand slid up Tseng’s leg and cupped his groin. He was already half-hard from watching the guy, and having a hand on him made him buck his hips unconsciously, chasing that sensation.

The man chuckled, low and soft, and they parted again, staring at one another for a moment before a silent agreement was met and they both stood. As they headed for the door, Tseng pondered the logistics of getting back to his place—not far by car, but a significant walk—but the man had his PHS out, and by the time they had exited the bar, there was a sleek black car waiting by the side of the road.

Tseng didn’t question it; all he wanted was to get this gorgeous man alone so they could do _very_ interesting things to each other. He followed him into the back seat of the car—spacious, comfortable leather seats, a privacy screen that the guy rolled up as soon as Tseng had blurted his address to the driver—and before the car even started, Tseng slid onto the man’s lap, straddling his thighs and kissing him desperately.

“Tell me your name,” Tseng gasped as the man moved his mouth to his neck, sucking a bruise under his ear and making Tseng moan.

“Why, so you can moan it when I make you come?” He ran his hand through Tseng’s hair, pulling the tie out so it fell loose around his face and brushed the tops of his shoulders. Tseng bit back a moan when the man laced his fingers in his hair and pulled slightly.

“Cocky, aren’t you?” Tseng grunted when the man pulled his hair again, his nails scraping against Tseng’s scalp. 

“Mmm. You can call me Rex.” He nuzzled Tseng’s neck again, kissing the mark he’d made, and Tseng clenched his hands tight in Rex’s shirt, wanting to get his hands on his skin. “And what shall I call you when you’ve got your mouth wrapped around my cock?”

Tseng shuddered, arousal pulsing through him. His hips were pressed right up against Rex’s, and he was getting just enough pressure on his cock to make him desperate for more. “Tseng,” he gasped.

“Pretty name. It suits you.” Rex kissed him again, their mouths slotting together perfectly as their tongues tangled, slick and hot and amazing. 

All too soon the car was pulling up outside Tseng’s building, a modest block near the edge of Sector 8. Rex grunted in annoyance when Tseng slid off his lap, and he crowded behind Tseng as they entered the building and waited for the elevator.

In the bright light of the foyer, Tseng was able to fully appreciate how gorgeous Rex was. He was slightly taller than Tseng, and his slim fitting shirt showed off his narrow waist and muscular shoulders. His pants were stretched tight over his ass, and Tseng made no effort to hide his appreciation, tilting his head and smiling at how perky and round it was. 

He had a classically handsome face, with piercing blue eyes and plush lips, and there was something vaguely familiar about him. Tseng wondered if he’d seen him on television; perhaps he was a minor actor. Rex was unlikely to be his real name, but Tseng didn’t care—they would never see each other again after tonight, and he was fine with that. With his new promotion, he was unlikely to have time to pick up random men in bars, so he intended to make the most of tonight.

The elevator arrived at the ground floor, and once they were inside, Rex pinned Tseng to the wall and kissed him, slotting a leg between Tseng’s thighs and pressing up into his crotch.

“Ah, fuck,” Tseng cursed, and Rex chuckled.

“Can’t wait to make you scream, my little songbird,” he murmured, and Tseng was torn between rolling his eyes at the endearment— _as if I haven’t heard that a dozen times before—_ and lust at Rex’s throaty growl in his ear.

Tseng was just pondering whether he should make a move to unbuckle Rex’s belt when the elevator doors opened on Tseng’s floor. He reluctantly pushed Rex off him and led him down the hall to his apartment, struggling to get his keys out and open the door with Rex pressed against his back, sweeping his hair aside to kiss the back of his neck as he slid a hand up underneath Tseng’s shirt to caress his stomach. 

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur as they kicked their shoes off in the entryway and made their slow way to the bedroom, their mouths attached together and hands everywhere. Tseng managed to get Rex’s shirt off, sliding his hands reverently over those broad shoulders and admiring the firmness of his muscles as Rex deftly unbuttoned Tseng’s shirt and pushed it off him. By the time they got to the bedroom they were down to their underwear, and Tseng cast an admiring glance down Rex’s body, his tight black boxer briefs showing off an impressively sized erection.

He pushed Rex down to sit on the bed before falling to his knees in between his spread legs, looking up at Rex with a smirk on his face. Rex’s mouth was partly open, his chest rising and falling as he panted, his hands trembling slightly as he stroked Tseng’s hair back from his face.

“You’ve got a pretty mouth,” Rex said softly, stroking Tseng’s lower lip with his thumb and forcing his mouth open a little. Tseng gently bit the tip of his thumb, and Rex grinned. “Show me what you can do with it.”

Tseng leaned in, mouthing over Rex’s cock through his underwear, tracing the shape with his lips before hooking his fingers into the waistband and tugging the fabric down. Rex had a gorgeous cock, thick and slightly curved, and Tseng kissed the head, flicking his tongue out briefly as Rex moaned above him.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Rex muttered. “Open your mouth, I want to fuck it.” He caressed Tseng’s jaw, and Tseng pulled away, looking up at Rex with a raised eyebrow.

“Bossy, aren’t you?” 

Rex laughed. “Does it bother you?” He slid his hands back into Tseng’s hair, tightening his grip and tugging sharply. Tseng moaned, his eyes falling closed as he allowed the pain and pleasure to wash over him. “Hmm, you like that, don’t you?”

Tseng opened his eyes, staring up at Rex through heavy lids. “Do that again,” he murmured, leaning forward and opening his mouth over Rex’s cock. He wrapped a hand around the base as he slid his tongue and lips around the shaft, bobbing his head as he stroked the base and swirled his tongue over the head with each pass. As he worked, Rex let out a litany of curses, grunts, moans, and his hands were tight in Tseng’s hair, tugging sharply to guide him. 

Tseng was so hard he thought he might explode, and eventually he pulled away, panting, ignoring Rex’s disgruntled sighs and standing up.

“Don’t want me coming in your mouth?” Rex asked, pushing his underwear down and shifting back on the bed. He looked extremely inviting, sprawled naked on Tseng’s black bedspread, his eyes dark and his cock still wet from Tseng’s mouth. 

“I’d prefer you coming in my ass,” Tseng said bluntly, and stripped his underwear off before climbing onto the bed, straddling Rex’s hips.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Rex said, his voice reverential as he cupped Tseng’s waist, his thumbs stroking circles on his hips. His eyes were filled with wonder and he had a soft smile on his face as he cast his gaze over every part of Tseng’s body. Tseng felt a blush rise in his face and he leaned forward, kissing Rex to distract him. This was far too emotional for a one night stand, and Tseng shifted his hips, rubbing their cocks together as he slipped his tongue into Rex’s mouth.

Rex moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the walls of Tseng’s apartment. The neighbours could probably hear them, but Tseng didn’t give a damn after what he’d been forced to listen to from them for the past six months. He rocked back and forth on Rex’s cock, letting out a whine when Rex slid a hand between them and wrapped it around his dick, stroking him firmly as Tseng’s eyes rolled back in his head.

That was enough foreplay; Tseng was aching to be fucked. He leaned across to the bedside table, retrieving condoms and lube, and Rex laughed, grabbing the lube from his hand and pouring some out onto his fingers. He reached behind Tseng, parting his cheeks and sliding a slick finger over his hole, and Tseng cried out when that finger slipped into him.

Gods, it had been almost a year since he’d last had this. It had been a quick tryst in the shower block after an intense training session, another Turk pressing Tseng against the cool tiles and fucking him until their cries echoed off the walls. Tseng pushed himself back against Rex’s finger, his mouth falling open when another one was added. 

“There you go,” Rex said admiringly when he found Tseng’s prostate and pressed against it mercilessly. Tseng moaned, cursed, his hands desperately clutching Rex’s shoulders as he writhed on his fingers, precome leaking from the head of his cock and dripping down onto Rex’s stomach.

“Fuck!” Tseng choked out when Rex wrapped his free hand around Tseng’s cock, swiping up the slick precome and using it to smooth his strokes.

“You want my cock?” Rex asked, and Tseng forced his eyes open to look down at him. His face was flushed, his eyes dark, and he was panting slightly as he watched Tseng slowly lose it.

“Yes!” He wanted nothing more than for Rex to fuck him until he screamed.

“You’re going to need to ask nicely,” Rex drawled, his voice smooth and cocky, and Tseng growled at him. “Hmm, very sexy, but I’m going to need to hear the words.” He pressed more firmly against Tseng’s prostate, and Tseng cried out.

“Fuck! I need you to fuck me! _Please!”_

Rex didn’t reply; he reached blindly for the condom and passed it to Tseng, who clumsily tore the packaging open and slid it over Rex’s cock, his body trembling as those fingers inside him continued to massage his prostate. He was sweating, his hair was stuck to his face, and he could hear a constant low whine coming from his throat as he shifted forward.

“Ahh, fuck,” Rex moaned when his cock slid into Tseng. “You feel _amazing._ Where have you been all my life?”

Tseng was unable to reply; all he could do was gasp for breath as Rex’s cock filled him up, thick and long and hard. He let out a whimper when Rex shifted, his cock pressing directly against Tseng’s prostate, and Rex let out a soft noise of pleasure.

“Okay,” Tseng eventually murmured, rocking back and forwards, feeling the steady slide of the cock inside him, and he groaned when Rex thrust his hips up. “Oh, _fuck me.”_

“Trying,” Rex said, and grabbed Tseng’s hips, thrusting again, harder, driving a gasp from Tseng’s throat. His cock was aching to be touched, and he was about to wrap a hand around himself when Rex flipped them over, pushing Tseng down onto his back and, in one slick movement, pushing his legs up and apart and sliding back into him.

Tseng gasped, his back arching and his head pushing back on the pillow as Rex’s cock drove deep into him. His legs were hooked over Rex’s shoulders, his toes curling as he was more decisively fucked than he ever had been in his _life._ Rex leaned down to kiss him and he moaned, grabbing the back of his head, his fingers tight in that silky blond hair as their mouths slid together.

It was rough, messy, the sounds of bodies slapping together ringing out in Tseng’s small bedroom, the bed frame creaking and groaning as Rex slammed into him again and again, and Tseng realised he was close to coming without having a hand on him. 

Rex grunted as he thrust his hips, slipping a hand up into Tseng’s hair and tugging it sharply in time with his thrusts, and Tseng gasped for breath as his balls tightened up and heat spread throughout his entire body. The pressure in his groin was intense, building sharply, and he cried out Rex’s name as his orgasm hit.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Rex panted, watching in awe as Tseng came all over his stomach, his body clenching down on his cock. Tseng’s legs fell to the side and he clutched weakly at Rex, whining softly as he hit his peak, his body stiffening over Tseng’s as he spent himself.

“Gods, that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” Rex gasped as he collapsed on top of Tseng.

“Mmm,” Tseng murmured in agreement, unable to put words together. He stroked Rex’s back, enjoying the firm muscles under his fingertips. He felt like he could fall asleep right now, but instead he gently nudged Rex until he rolled off him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Rex asked plaintively when Tseng forced himself to move, sitting up and sliding his legs off the edge of the bed. Tseng looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m just going to clean up, I’m coming back.”

“Good.” Rex lay back, sprawled indolently on the bed, a relaxed smile on his face as he caught his breath. “Love watching you leave!” he called as Tseng left the room.

  
  
Tseng tried not to be disappointed when he woke in the morning to find Rex gone, leaving nothing but some messy bedclothes and a scent of his cologne. He hadn’t left a note, a phone number, anything, and Tseng sighed. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting—they’d shared barely two sentences beyond what was needed, but it would have been nice to wake up for some early morning sex before he had to go to work. They’d fallen asleep curled up in each other’s arms last night, and Tseng had to admit he’d liked having someone else in the bed with him.

Nothing to be done about it, though. He had nothing but a probably-fake name, and there were plenty of blond men in Midgar. Even using his skills as a Turk he’d be unlikely to track the man down, and it would be somewhat creepy if he did. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling and feeling the ache in his ass as a reminder of what had happened the previous night.

He sighed again and dragged himself out of bed. He was feeling a little seedy from the alcohol he’d imbibed the previous night, but it was nothing a strong cup of coffee and some food wouldn’t fix.

  
  
“Tseng, good, you’re here. I have your first assignment ready.”

Tseng glanced up from his desk as Veld entered the room. “Sir?”

“Come with me.” Veld headed into his office and Tseng followed, closing the door behind him.

“What do you have for me?” Tseng asked, sitting in the chair opposite Veld’s desk. Hopefully it would be something good for his first assignment, something utilising all the skills Tseng had learned over the years.

Veld rubbed his face. He always looked tired, but today he was looking much worse for wear than normal. “I apologise for this, I really do. But you know what it’s like—the new person gets the worst jobs.”

“Sir?” Tseng frowned; he didn’t like where this was going.

“I have faith in you, though. I need you to know that I chose you for this not because you’re the newest to this rank, but because I believe you will be the best person for the task.”

“Thank you,” Tseng said politely, waiting for the hammer to drop.

“The President’s son has returned from Junon to live in Midgar, and the President has requested a senior Turk to head his security detail.”

Tseng frowned again, confused. “Why the Turks? Doesn’t the President have private security for his family? His son doesn’t have a role in the company.”

“Not for much longer. He’s priming Rufus to be the next Vice President.” Veld leaned forward on his elbows and lowered his voice. “He also wants a Turk to keep an eye on him. His loyalties are in doubt, and you are to report any activities which give you pause.”

“But I’m a Turk. He’ll know I’m spying.”

“There’s more.” Veld cleared his throat and spoke the next words in a low murmur, his lips barely moving. “This is the important part, Tseng. You are to report to _me_ first. Find out Rufus’ loyalties and inform me.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think I need to elaborate, do I?”

He sat back, watching Tseng. Tseng nodded his understanding, although his thoughts were in turmoil. He knew what Veld was suggesting, and it sounded too outlandish to be true. “I will do as you ask,” he eventually said, his voice firm. He had little to no loyalty to the President, a man he’d only met once or twice in passing, but owed everything he was to Veld. There was no question about where Tseng’s loyalties lay.

Now he only needed to find out what was driving Rufus.

“Come on, you’re meeting him in ten minutes.” Veld stood up and led the way to the elevator out in the corridor. It was a long trip from sub-basement three to level sixty-nine, and Tseng was silent throughout, wondering how he would tackle this. He’d never met Rufus Shinra, had only heard stories about the indolent playboy son of the President, who spent almost all his time in Junon creating scandals. He wondered how the man would feel about having a Turk in charge of his security, and he could already foresee some difficulties that may lie ahead.

“He’s a bit… unreasonable sometimes,” Veld muttered as the elevator reached the top of the building. “He’ll likely try to manipulate you.”

Tseng huffed out a laugh. “I’d like to see him try, sir.”

The elevator doors opened, and Veld led Tseng through the dark and richly-appointed columns of the Presidential suites towards the apartment Rufus would be living in for the foreseeable future. He knocked on the door, waited a moment, and let himself in.

Rufus Shinra was standing at the floor to ceiling windows on the far end of the luxuriously furnished room, looking out over Midgar. He was tall, wearing a tightly-fitted white coat which nipped in at the waist before flaring out over his hips, and what looked like a skirt made of belts over his white pants and black boots. He had sleek blond hair, and Tseng recognised him immediately.

“Mr Shinra?” Veld said, and Rufus turned around. “This is your new head of security, Tseng.”

As soon as Rufus’ gaze fell on Tseng, a feral grin formed on his face and he strode over to meet them. “Oh, we’ve met,” he purred, in the same voice he’d used the previous night when he fucked Tseng into his mattress.

Veld looked slightly taken aback. “Oh? Well, that’s good. I don’t have to introduce you, then.” He glanced at Tseng. “A word outside before I leave?”

Tseng nodded, unable to look away from Rufus’ predatory gaze. Veld touched his arm and he blinked, turning away and leaving the room with Veld.

“You didn’t tell me you knew him,” Veld said quietly once the door was closed. “How? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tseng closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I, ah. I may have slept with him.”

“And you didn’t think this was pertinent information to share earlier?” Veld hissed.

“I didn’t know it was him until now! He didn’t give me his name!” Tseng could feel a blush rising, his ears burning and his cheeks starting to heat up. He was badly shaken by this; his equilibrium was destroyed and he wanted nothing more than to leave the building and perhaps throw himself off the plate. He’d fucked the son of the President, and it had been the best sex of his _life._

Veld sighed. “As long as it was a while ago, I think—”

“It was last night.” Tseng steeled himself and glanced at Veld. He was surprised to see his boss covering his mouth, clearly trying to hide a laugh. “Sir?”

Veld coughed. “I wasn’t going to ask why you were walking a little strangely when you came in this morning, and now I’m glad I didn’t.”

“If you need someone else to do this job,” Tseng began, trying not to squirm. His ass was still aching, and he wondered how many other Turks had taken one look at him that morning and known he’d been fucked to within an inch of his life the previous night.

“Absolutely not. If anything, you’re in a better spot than anyone else would be. Use that connection you had. Sleep with him again if you have to, just get me the information I need.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Tseng staring at the door to Rufus’ apartment with a combination of arousal and trepidation churning in his gut.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was an executive Turk, he could do this. Besides, Veld was right—he could definitely use this connection to get the information he needed. He opened the door and found Rufus lounging on a couch near the window, his booted feet up on a table and that smug grin still on his face.

“Good, you came back,” he said, beckoning Tseng towards him.

“Sir,” Tseng said carefully. “Or… do you prefer Rex?”

Rufus laughed. “Oh, come on. You don’t honestly think I’d give my real name when I’m out on the pull?”

“Good point.” Tseng sat awkwardly on the couch opposite and tried to relax a little. In the bright light of day, in his own space, Rufus was incredibly handsome, and Tseng couldn’t help but imagine kissing him again. “Now that we are working together, we should probably try to forget about last night.” 

“I don’t think so,” Rufus scoffed. “There’s no reason it can’t happen again.”

“Sir—”

Rufus leaned forward, his gaze penetrating as he looked Tseng up and down. “Much as I like you in a suit, I think I prefer you naked and writhing on my cock.”

“Sir!” Tseng tried not to shift in his seat; his ass throbbed painfully with the memory, and his cock was half-hard just having Rufus this close to him, that low, rough voice like honey pouring over him as he was reminded of how he’d begged for Rufus’ cock the previous night.

“Besides, I know why you’re here.” Rufus leaned back again, crossing his legs and narrowing his eyes. The air between them was suddenly tense, dangerous, and Tseng immediately started paying closer attention. Rufus was smarter than he seemed, and he couldn’t let his guard down. “You’re here to report back to my father.”

“I’m here because your father is concerned about your safety while you are in Midgar,” Tseng retorted. “For example, last night. You were out in Sector 8 with no escort, and went back to a stranger’s apartment without having any background checks done on him first. He could have been anyone.”

Rufus rolled his eyes. “Really?”

“From now on,” Tseng continued, “when you want an evening out, you will be accompanied by me and at least one other security officer to keep watch from afar. If you want to bring anyone home, they will need to speak to me first so I can vet them and have them sign NDAs before you fuck them.”

“Gods, that’s boring,” Rufus sighed. “Especially since there’s no reason for me to go out on the pull now that I have you here.”

“That’s not my job.” Tseng gritted his teeth; this was proving difficult, and not in the ways he’d imagined.

“No, but it could definitely be a perk.”

Tseng sighed. “It won’t be happening again,” he forced out, and Rufus laughed.

  
  
Somehow, Tseng managed to put Rufus off for almost a week. A week of Rufus flirting with him constantly, murmuring quiet words in Tseng’s ear, touching his hair, brushing up against him whenever he got the opportunity. He made sure to never be wearing more than a low-slung pair of silky pajama pants in his apartment whenever Tseng was there, but Tseng just smiled and politely averted his eyes.

Veld had suggested he use the connection, and Tseng had every intention of doing so. But he was going to make Rufus wait, make him think Tseng was too professional to sleep with his boss. Tseng was going to drive Rufus to distraction, to the point where Rufus would think he’d won when Tseng finally gave in. 

He started subtly flirting back, leaving his hair loose sometimes when he was around Rufus so it was easier for Rufus to play with idly. He took to wearing a slightly tighter-fitting suit and making sure to leave his jacket unbuttoned, and he hid a smile whenever he caught Rufus’ gaze flicking down to where his shirt stretched tight across his chest, the buttons straining a little.

He wondered if Rufus was aware of what Tseng was doing, and continued affecting disinterest in Rufus’s attempts to flirt. The longer he made Rufus wait, the easier he would be to glean information from.

The entire situation was doing Tseng’s head in. Every morning he woke up hard, the memory of Rufus fucking him playing in full colour and sound in his mind, and he couldn’t begin his day without jerking off to thoughts of Rufus’ cock in him, Rufus kissing him, Rufus’ hard body covering his.

He started to wonder who was manipulating who. He spent almost all his time in Rufus’ company, following him to meetings with his father and evenings out on the town. They returned to the jazz club where they’d first met, and Rufus sat on the very same couch, raising an eyebrow at Tseng and indicating he should join him. Tseng left a foot of space between them, ignoring Rufus’ sigh of disappointment, and was careful to only have one drink. Rufus got bored quickly and left, Tseng trailing behind him and into the company car to take him home.

It inevitably came to a head the night they got drunk together. Tseng had been forced to stay at Rufus’ apartment when his replacement didn’t show up, and it was all too easy to let Rufus ply him with drinks. No doubt he was remembering how pliant and needy Tseng had been the night they met, and he seemed determined to have a repeat performance.

Tseng was only too willing. He wanted Rufus like he’d never wanted anyone in his life, and several glasses of whiskey was the perfect excuse to give in. Let Rufus think he’d coaxed Tseng into this; Tseng knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

As the whiskey took hold, Tseng relaxed against Rufus, both of them sprawled on the couch. Rufus was once again in his loose, silky pajama pants, and Tseng reached out to slide a hand up his thigh, wanting to feel the soft slide of the fabric under his hand. They were both silent, the only sounds in the apartment the crackling of the fireplace and the quiet jazz CD Rufus had put in the player. 

“Tseng,” Rufus breathed as Tseng’s hand hovered over his waistband before creeping higher up his body, caressing the warm skin over firm muscles. Tseng’s breath hitched as he slid his fingertips over Rufus’ nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. Rufus made a quiet sound, and Tseng looked up to meet his gaze.

His face was flushed, whether from the alcohol or his arousal, Tseng neither knew nor cared. He could hear Rufus’ harsh breathing, see his chest rising and falling, and they stared at each other in silence for a moment. 

Tension stretched out between them like a violin string, taut and almost humming in its intensity. Tseng lifted his hand to Rufus’ face, cupping his cheek, caressing his jaw, stroking the plush warmth of his lips, and Rufus whimpered as he leaned into Tseng’s touch.

“Don’t tease me like this,” Rufus said softly. “I don’t think I could take it.”

“I’m not teasing,” Tseng replied, and leaned in to press his mouth against Rufus’. 

The tension snapped, and Rufus grabbed Tseng by the shoulders, pushing him down onto his back so Rufus could lie atop him. Their lips parted for a moment before crashing together again, both of them moaning into the kiss, a week’s worth of lust suddenly being allowed to blossom between them. Tseng gasped as Rufus slipped his tongue into his mouth, tangling them together, slick and searing hot and tasting of whiskey.

In what felt like no time at all they had made it to the bedroom, both of them stripped naked and rutting together on the bed before Rufus rolled Tseng onto his hands and knees and got two fingers into him.

“Tonight I want to hear you scream my _real_ name,” Rufus growled as Tseng moaned and bucked his hips, fucking himself on Rufus’ fingers as his head was pulled back by the hand sharply tugging his hair. He wished it wasn’t such a weakness, having his hair pulled, but just the slightest tug turned him to putty and Rufus knew it.

Tseng heard the click of the lube bottle again, the ripping of a condom wrapper, and then Rufus’ cock was pressing against him, sliding in with aching slowness. Tseng cursed, his hands tight in the bedclothes, his face buried in the pillow, and once Rufus was fully seated in him he lifted his head to catch his breath.

It provided Rufus a good opportunity to pull his hair again, and Tseng almost lost it when he felt fingernails scraping over his scalp before Rufus got a good handful of hair and yanked, hard. 

“Fuck, you look so good on my cock,” Rufus moaned, running his hand up Tseng’s back and then down to his ass, which he lightly slapped as he thrust into him over and over, driving the breath out of him. Tseng grunted, almost overwhelmed by sensation, and bucked his hips, fucking himself on Rufus’ cock deep inside him. Rufus was rubbing against Tseng’s prostate with every stroke, and just like the last time, Tseng was quite sure he was going to come just from having Rufus’ cock inside him.

His orgasm, when it hit, left him breathless and weak, and he only just managed to hang on through Rufus’ peak before his entire body went boneless, collapsing to the bed. 

“Fucking hell, Tseng,” Rufus said, panting, as he slipped out and lay down next to him, a hand still caressing Tseng’s sweaty back and up into his hair. “Don’t you dare say we can’t ever do that again.”

Tseng lifted his head, looking at Rufus through tangled hair and bleary eyes. “You can fuck me whenever you want,” he mumbled, shifting his exhausted body so he was curled up against Rufus. 

They needed to clean up, probably shower, but Tseng didn’t think he’d be able to move for a while. Rufus tilted his head down and kissed him, soft and sweet, and Tseng didn’t know if he could deal with Rufus being _sweet._

“By the way,” Rufus drawled, “I know why you’re _really_ here. And while I enjoyed the seduction act, you weren’t as clever about it as you thought.”

“Huh?” Tseng was stupid in the aftermath of sex, his mind foggy from having the living daylights fucked out of him. 

“You Turks are not the only ones who do your research.” Rufus leaned over to the bedside table and extracted a packet of cigarettes, giving one to Tseng before putting one in his mouth and lighting them both. They smoked in silence for a few minutes, the drag of smoke relaxing Tseng even more until he was almost asleep next to Rufus.

“What do you mean?” he slurred. This was no good; he needed to wake up, to pay attention to Rufus, and he forced himself to sit up, tapping his cigarette on the ashtray Rufus had put between them.

Rufus laughed and blew a stream of smoke into Tseng’s face. “You’re Veld’s man, through and through. You don’t give a shit about my father. And Veld? He’s _mine._ ”

Tseng stared down at him. “Yours?”

Rufus grinned. “You tell Veld I’m grateful to him for sending you to me, but next time he should just ask me if the rumours are true.”

“What rumours?” Tseng needed to clear his head, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and a drag of smoke.

“Mmm. You haven’t heard? I’m working against my father to bring him down and take over the company. He’s going to make me VP next week. Gods, he’s such an idiot. So, you be a good little Turk, and tell Veld to tell my father that I’m a dutiful son, and then? You and I will get to work.”

Tseng blinked, lying back down and stubbing out his cigarette. “So I put you off for a week for no reason?” He’d been played; he thought he was manipulating Rufus, but it had been the other way around.

“I wouldn’t call it a waste,” Rufus replied, putting his own cigarette out and putting the ashtray back on the bedside table. He hooked an arm around Tseng’s waist, pulling him in for a kiss. Tseng hummed softly into Rufus’ mouth, tasting whiskey and smoke. “I did rather enjoy watching you flirt with me.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tseng grumbled, and Rufus laughed, carefree and happy, before kissing Tseng again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I’m on twitter: sherribon


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